The Wanderer Chronicles: Rebirth
by KevanTheGreat99
Summary: Hardly anything significant happens at the Henderson clockwork shop. But when the family is being harassed by gangsters, he wonders if he would be able to protect his family. But that's not the worst of it. When a strange box falls out of the sky, and an injured man stumbles out of it, events will go in motion that will change the family forever. Story #1 of Season One.
1. Episode 1

Episode One

* * *

"Listen, this is a dangerous part of town. You need us."

The tall and skinny fellow with a bowler hat walked around the shop, with his burly partner sitting on a chair cracking his knuckles.

At the counter of the Henderson Clockworks, sat Arthur Henderson, the proprietor of the clock shop. He shook his head at the bowler hat man.

"It's just been slow in business lately," said Arthur plainly. "Just give me a few more days, and you will get your so called 'protection' money."

The bowler hat man, Simmons, wagged a finger at Arthur in response.

"You know that's not how we do things around here, Art. My boss doesn't like late payments."

"I know, but-"

"But nothin," said the burly man. "Don't pay up, and we are no longer gonna protect you."

He walked over to a grandfather clock, looked at his reflection in the glass, and then tipped it over onto its face.

"Oops. This wouldn't have happened if you paid."

Arthur ran to the now battered grandfather clock, checking it for any permanent damage.

Simmons stood over Arthur. "You have two days. Don't be late."

At that moment, the two gangsters walked out of the shop, with its owner trying his best to fix the clock.

This was going to be a long day.

...

Arthur's attempt to get a good night's sleep was starting to become fruitless. He looked over at Eleanor, who was sound asleep. She knows how stressed he's been to try to keep up with the payments, and she tries her best to comfort him.

He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. What would he do without her?

Wanting to get some fresh air, Arthur got dressed in a pair of pants, a shirt, and a long coat and strode out of the door.

...

It was a cold night in the town. He was glad that he brought a coat along…

As he slowly walked along the path, he saw something in the sky. He thought it was a star at first, but after examining, he realized that it was something else. And it was falling towards him.

His eyes widening, Arthur darted towards the exit of the park and immediately halted as soon as he heard a loud boom come from inside the park. It crashed into the ground!

Arthur was struggling with a decision. Either he just simply walks away, and pretends that didn't happen, and try to be shocked when he reads the paper tomorrow, and try to move on with his life. Or… he goes over to the crash site and investigate. It could be miraculous.

He sighed, and ran to the park.

What Arthur found within the crater shocked him. It was a box. A box has fallen from the sky!

It looked to be some sort of crypt. It had a stone and wood exterior, and the part that made Arthur scratch his head was the two strings of neon green lights that ran along the entrance of the box.

As if it wasn't strange enough, the box still looked intact. Hardly a scratch on it.

Arthur was about to walk towards the box when he suddenly jumped and gave a yelp as the door to the box opened and something stumbled out of it.

It was a man.

Unlike the box, this man looked worse for wear. He was a tall man, with collar length dark brown hair that was swept back slightly. His clothes were odd, with his blue denim jacket, and a black hood that protruded from the jacket. His clothes were torn and… is that blood?

What on Earth happened to this man, thought Arthur.

The man looked at his surroundings, holding onto the side of the box for support. He looked as though he was going to faint.

Eventually, his eyes laid upon Arthur. He wearily raised an arm towards him, and fell onto the ground.

He just stared at the unconscious form. He's been in war before, he's seen people die. When he went to check on the body, he was surprised that the man still had a pulse. A fast one at that.

Making a quick decision, he threw the man over his shoulders and made his way back to his home.

…

"Eleanor, help me."

When Eleanor opened the door, her eyes turned wide as plates when she saw who her husband was with. Without thinking, she lent a hand and brought the man onto the couch in the family room.

"Christ, Arthur, who is this?!" she exclaimed. She only now noticed the blood on the man's clothes. "I- is that blood?"

He shook his head. "Yeah… something crashed in the park, and… _he _stumbled out of it." He covered his face with his hands. "I don't know why I did this…" he whispered.

She stood over the wounded man. He had a few small cuts on his face, and the top of his forehead looked slightly bruised.

"We should call the police, he needs to be in a proper hospital." suggested Eleanor.

Suddenly, the man's eyes suddenly snapped open and grabbed her arm. Eleanor gave a short scream as the man sat up at the speed of light.

"No! No police! No…" his grip on her lightened. "Hospital…"

His eyes fluttered shut and laid back down. When Arthur checked on him, he found that he was unconscious again.

He turned his eyes towards Eleanor, who clearly looked shaken by that experience. He went towards her and hugged her.

"It's alright…" He rubbed her back as she hugged back.

When he turned her to face him, she looked past his shoulder and her eyes widened again.

"Arthur-" she patted his arm and pointed towards the man.

When he turned he saw something extraordinary. The man was in a beautiful golden glow, which was so bright that Arthur had to shield his eyes.

After it was over, the couple were shocked to see that the man no longer looked bruised, and his cuts have healed. They were in silence.

"Mom..?" said a young voice. They turned to see their daughter, Madison, standing at the archway to the family room, looking as stunned as her parents.

"Madi, what are you-"

"Who is that?" her expression was a mix of amazement and concern. "Why did he glow..?"

Arthur stepped in. "Sweetie, I really wish I had the answer for that. But-" he glanced at Eleanor. "He is very hurt and… we are going to nurse him back to health."

His wife gave him a look and then turned her attention back to her daughter.

"Come on… it's late, you need to be in bed." she walked over to her and guided her upstairs but not before looking at Arthur. "We'll talk about this later."

Arthur's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I guess I really am losing it…" he looked over towards the man, who was now sound asleep.

"Guess I'll deal with it in the morning."

…

The morning sun shone through the windows onto Madison Henderson's face. After a groan, she groggily rose from her bed and wrapped a robe around herself.

As she walked downstairs, she remembered that they have now have a guest. A strange one that glows, at that. She turned the corner and saw the man, now awake, sitting upwards on the couch.

His hand rested on his chin and his gaze was towards the ground. Reluctantly, Madi took a few steps towards the man. It didn't take him long to notice her, as his dark blue eyes shifted towards her with raised eyebrows.

"Hello." said the man quietly.

"Hi…" replied Madi. They stared at each other for a few seconds, but it felt longer than that.

"What's your name?" asked the man.

"Madison."

He gave a small smile. "Good to meet you, Madison."

He raised a hand towards her. She shook it. He seems like a nice man.

"What's… what's your name?" asked Madi.

She may have only been thirteen years old, but she could have sworn that hurt flashed across his face, but then back to his normal state. He opened his mouth as if he's about to respond, but then her father entered the room.

"Madi! Don't talk to that man unless I say so." scolded Arthur. "Now, get yourself ready for school."

"Yes, Daddy…" she replied sadly.

She slowly walked out of the room, looked at the man once more, and walked out of view.

Sighing, Arthur turned his attention towards the strange man.

"Please don't speak to my daughter."

He raised his hands up slightly in a defensive gesture. "I assure you that I mean your family no harm…"

Arthur crossed his arms and studied him. He looked young, maybe in his mid-twenties. But somehow he seemed older than that. There was just something about him that struck out in that regard.

"You… no, you don't look like you would." said Arthur wearily. He rubbed his temples and paced the room.

"What's wrong?" asked the man.

"You!" exclaimed Arthur, pointing a finger at the man. "It's you… I don't know why I even brought you here."

"The goodness of your heart, perhaps?"

"I… I don't know. You were delirious last night, not wanting to get *any* help at all, and now here you are… seemingly fine. Why don't you want to get actual help?"

The man shrugged. "Because it would be a wildfire of discoveries. What year is this, anyhow?"

Arthur blinked. "1972."

Why would he ask this? But he didn't want to change the subject. Something was off about this man as soon as he stepped out of that box.

"Why were you glowing?" asked Arthur bluntly. He wanted to get straight down to the hard questions.

Again, the man shrugged. "I was hurt, and my body merely healed itself. Like how a cut heals overtime, but in my case, at an alarming rate."

His eyebrows suddenly raised, as though he just remembered something.

"Huh, that's odd. Voice is different." He looked around the room and then back at Arthur with a look of concern. "Do… do you have a mirror?"

"What? Erm… sure, hang on." Arthur didn't know where he was going with this. He went to go get a mirror from Eleanor's desk, and went to give it to the man.

The man quickly took it and looked at his reflection.

"Oh no… No, no, no… It happened again." said the man with a hint of horror in his voice.

"What's happened again..?"

The man gestured his face, then back at the mirror. "This! This-"

He took a deep breath, and looked over at Arthur, his composure seemingly returned.

"Let's just say that I'm going through some changes at the moment."

"Right… how did you end up like...this?" asked Arthur.

The man looked to be in deep thought before shaking his head.

"The funny thing is… I don't entirely remember. I remember there was a girl in an alleyway, and some loud bangs."

"Gunshots." theorized Arthur, which would explain the bloodstains on the man's clothing. "You were shot."

The man nodded slowly, as though the memory was starting to catch up with him, but he shook his head, and sprang up on his feet.

"Well!" said the man, who clapped his hands together. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I really should be leaving."

He started to move towards the entryway of the house before Arthur stopped him.

"Woah, woah. You can't go out there!" exclaimed Arthur.

The man stood with his back straight and lifted his chin up slightly.

"And why not?" asked the man calmly.

Was he oblivious to his state?

"Well… look at you!" he gestured towards the man's clothes.

In response, the man looked down at himself and gave a gulp.

"Oh," said the man sheepishly. "think that will cause some unwanted attention?"

Arthur sighed. "It just might. You need some new clothes."

"Good idea, sir!" exclaimed the man, patting Arthur's arm. "Do you have any clothes that could fit me?"

"Erm, I think so? You look to be around my size. Hopefully. Come on…"

…

This took longer than he thought.

The strange man has been inside his room for twenty minutes now. Just what is so hard about finding a shirt and a pair of pants?

As Arthur was about to knock, the door swung open and the man was now in a change of clothes.

He wore a velvet blazer that was burgundy in color, with a white dress shirt and black necktie to go along with it.

"Well," asked the Wanderer with a wide grin on his face. "What do you think?"

Arthur studied his new attire. The only thing that really clashes was his long brown hair. But other than that, he looks like a somewhat normal man of society.

"You look fine." answered Arthur. "You don't look like someone in a dead man's clothing."

He looked back towards the discarded clothing that belonged to another life.

"You aren't wrong."

…

"Wait, so you aren't human?" asked Arthur in a skeptical tone.

The two men walked down the streets of Portland. Even though he was unconscious when he arrived, the man seemed as though he knew exactly where he was going.

"Yep." answered the man simply.

"You look human."

The man wagged a finger. "You look Time Lord."

Whatever that meant.

"If you are an alien, then why do you have an American accent?"

The man stopped in his tracks.

"I do? I dooooooo?" asked the man, who at this point was testing his vocal cords.

"Huh, that's a new one. I had an English accent less than twenty-four hours ago." he shrugged. "Should be interesting."

They walked on. Arthur wondered why he hasn't even called the police yet, he wondered. It's simple enough. But then again, the man hasn't hurt anyone. At least not yet.

"Now, what is your box?"

"My, full of questions are we?" the man chuckled. "Well, to put it simply, it's my ship. She takes me anywhere, and by anywhere, I mean _anywhere_."

Arthur shook his head. "You mean, that things a spaceship?"

"Mhm. I'll even show you her, if you like."

Soon enough, the men were at the park and walked along the path to where the crash site was.

"Okay, there are bound to be people there. Police, even." said Arthur with concern. "What will you do then."

The man gave a cocky grin. "I have my ways."

He walked ahead of him towards the site. Sure enough, people were there. All sorts of people. The man walked fast towards the hole in the ground but not before slowing down and stopping in his tracks.

Arthur caught up with him. The man's face was frozen as he looked at the crash site. After a few seconds, he fell to his knees.

"What's wrong?" asked Arthur.

"It's gone…" said the man quietly. He pointed towards the crater. "My TARDIS is gone…"

Arthur looked past the man and saw that he was right.

The box was gone!

* * *

**Welcome to the first story of a series I plan on doing called: The Wanderer Chronicles!** **This follows the story of another survivor of the Time War, who goes by the name: the Wanderer! Doing this Classic Series style, I plan on making each story have two-four parts. The next episode will be uploaded as soon as I can!**


	2. Episode 2

Episode Two

Arthur sat on a bench and watched as the man asked a police officer about the situation. He could see the frown on the man's face from where he sat as he got his information.

Eventually, the man came back and sunk down onto the bench. They sat in silence for a moment before Arthur spoke up.

"Well?" asked Arthur. "What happened?"

The man didn't look at Arthur.

"Well," began the man. "The authorities were going to confiscate the box, but in the process, the box dematerialized."

Arthur blinked. "You'd think that they would keep information like that from the public. How did you get that information?"

The man pulled out a wallet-like object from his pocket, opened it, and presented it to him.

"What does it say?"

Arthur looked at the object. It was… a badge? An FBI badge!

"You're FBI?"

The man gave a small smile, as if he was amused by this. He took it back and gave it a little shake and showed it to him once again.

"Look again." said the man quietly.

To Arthur's astonishment, it no longer showed an FBI badge, but a message.

_Sucker._

Arthur blinked once more, but gave the man a scowl.

The man gave a short laugh. "Physic paper. Helluva way to get past security."

He put the object back into his coat pocket. The man suddenly went silent again.

Strange enough, Arthur could feel pity for the man. This whole experience was a strange one, but the fact that this man's only way home, at least he assumes that's where he's going, is gone without a trace. But what if the man really is just crazy? On the other hand, he saw the box crash with his own eyes, and saw the man stumble out of it.

Sighing, Arthur got up and stood over the man.

"Come on, we'll go back to my place and figure out what to do with you."

The man looked up, turned his head towards the crater, and got up from his seat.

"Alright." said the man simply.

...

The man sat on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand. He just simply stared off into space, deep in thought. Arthur walked into the living room with a cup of his own, and sat on the chair by the couch and looked at the man.

He has hardly said anything since they left the park. The fact that his… box, was no longer here must have had an impact on him. Who could blame him? They sat in silence for a few minutes before Arthur spoke up.

"I don't think I ever got your name."

The man shifted his eyes at him, then towards his coffee. He took a sip and placed it on the table.

"I suppose since you told me *your* name, you deserve to hear mine. But I… I wish I can tell you that." answered the man quietly. "Truth is, I don't really have a name. Not anymore."

Arthur blinked. "So I can't call you anything?"

"Well, I didn't say that." he took another sip of his coffee. "Besides, my name would most likely be a tongue twister for you, anyway."

He gave a small chuckle.

"Right… then what do I call you?"

"People have just called me… stranger. Drifter." he then gave a smile. "But my favorite name would have to be… Wanderer. Something about it sounds mysterious, and I love it."

Arthur shook his head. This was absurd, but he couldn't help but stifle a laugh.

"I guess it does, yeah…" but his face went serious. "But I can't just call you 'Wanderer'."

The Wanderer slowly nodded in agreement. "Yes… that wouldn't exactly fly around this time period, would it?" he scratched his light stubble. "Then you can call me... "

He thought of a bunch of Earth names. Some sounds catchy, some didn't. Truth be told, he rather liked the name Arthur. But he didn't want to, erm, 'borrow', his name just yet.

"William."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "William?"

The Wanderer shrugged. "It'll suffice."

He sighed. "Alright, William, now onto another important topic."

"And that is?"

Arthur got up and stood over him. "What are we going to do with you?"

His face suddenly fell and looked to the ground. "This isn't looking good for me, huh?"

Arthur looked at him. He didn't seem like a dangerous sort.

The Wanderer looked up at him. "I can work. Something tells me that I will be here for a while, and if you have any work, I-"

Arthur raised a hand towards him. The Wanderer stopped talking.

"Hey, hey… I get it." said Arthur sympathetically. "Look…"

He hoped that he wasn't going to regret this.

"If I can talk to my family, maybe you can stay in the guest room. But only for a week, alright?"

The Wanderer's face lit up slightly.

"Alright. Sounds good to me." his face fell into a frown again. "But if I can't stay, then… I understand."

Arthur nodded.

…

"You want to *what*?" asked Eleanor with disbelief.

"Eleanor, he has nowhere to go."

Eleanor paced around the bedroom, arms crossed, with Arthur sitting on the bed.

"Yeah, I get that, but you are saying that he's what, some sort of alien?"

Arthur threw his hands in the air. "Look, I am weirded out as much as you, okay? But he'll only be here for a week."

"Are you sure that you can even trust him? We could take in a murderer as far as we know."

"He hasn't made a move yet. Besides, I will watch him every moment, and… I'm going to have him work with me at the clockwork shop."

She stayed silent, looking out of the window. Eventually, she gave a sigh and turned to her husband.

"Fine. One week. Please, Arthur… I hope you know what you are doing."

Arthur got up from the bed and stood close to her.

"Not really. I guess we'll just have to see where this goes."

He leaned in and kissed her.

"God, I hope you're right…" whispered Eleanor.

…

The dinner that came later that evening was rather awkward. The family was quiet for the most part, with only the clink and clanks from the silverware and plates making noises.

The Wanderer cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with a napkin and took a sip of his water.

"So, erm, I don't think I know your name yet, ma'am." said the Wanderer aloud, making the family flinch at the sudden statement.

"It's Eleanor." she said, keeping her guard up. "Yours?"

"William." he glanced at Arthur, then back at Eleanor. "I just want to thank you and your husband for doing this."

"It was Arthur who convinced me. I just hope I don't regret this."

He looked at Eleanor. "I understand your reluctance. But I assure you that I won't be here long."

He took another bite from his meal.

"Let's hope so."

She kept eating after that. It was silent once again for a few moments.

"So, you what did you do before you came here?" asked Madi.

"Madi-" whispered Arthur.

"No, it's alright…" said the Wanderer. "I… well, I was in the army."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "You… were a soldier too?"

He nodded. "Yep. An officer, actually."

"Where did you serve?" asked Eleanor. "You look a little young to be an officer."

The Wanderer looked at her. "It's complicated." he replied quietly.

He got up with his plate.

"Look, I didn't mean to-" began Eleanor, now suddenly feeling guilty of her behavior.

"It's alright… thank you for the meal, ma'am." he quickly left the room.

"Dad…" said Madi. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that..."

"No, it's okay sweetheart." said Arthur, frowning as he looked at the direction the Wanderer left in. "I know very well how that feels."

…

_Knock knock knock_

The Wanderer, standing by the window watching the sun come up turned his head towards the guest room door.

"Come in."

Arthur stepped inside, fully dressed for work. He noticed that the man was fully dressed as well, bar the jacket and tie.

The Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "Good morning. Going somewhere this early?"

"Yeah. You wanted work, right?"

"Yes?"

"Well… how about you come work with me in this business I own. It's a clockwork shop, and I'll just have you clean the place in the meantime." proposed Arthur.

"Keeping the place tidy, hm?" he pondered for a moment before giving a small smile. "I think I can manage that."

He then grabbed his velvet jacket and quickly put it on.

"Right behind you, sir."

Arthur shook his head.

"Come on."

…

The work day was simple enough. There were a few customers that day, along with a few who needed their clocks fixed.

All the while, the Wanderer, actually, William, merely swept the dust off of the clocks and made sure everything looked pristine.

Surprisingly, he did very well, thought Arthur.

It was near the end of the day when the bell on the door rang again.

Arthur didn't look up. "Hello, what can I do you-"

When he looked up, he saw them again. It was Simmons and his lackey. Simmons' associate had a baseball bat in his hand.

Arthur gulped.

"Hello again, Henderson." said Simmons slyly.

_Damn, I don't have the money again…_

"Look, I don't have enough money again at the moment, not a lot of people co-"

"Now now, you know what I said."

He snapped a finger at his lackey, who in turn used it to knock a clock off a shelf.

"Wait, no-"

Another clock fell.

"How can I pay you if you keep ruining the means to pay for your absurd loans?!" exclaimed Arthur.

Simmons raised a hand, making his burly compatriot stop.

"Absurd?" he gave him a hard look. "These are reasonable fees for our protection."

Slowly, the burly man advanced on him.

"If anything, we should raise the fee for you."

Suddenly, the burly man suddenly pushed Arthur to the ground, knocking his head on the counter.

Simmons gave a chuckle as his partner gave Arthur a kick on his side.

Arthur tried his best to block the blows, but this man was built like a brickhouse.

Suddenly, a voice came from the entrance to the backroom, which silenced the chaos.

"Leave him alone."

Simmons turned towards the source of the voice. It was a man. He looked young, with his collar length brown hair and rounded face. His face was narrowed as he put the broom he had in his hand by the wall.

Simmons looked at Arthur, who groaned slightly. "Who's this, Henderson? You have enough money to hire new hands but yet you can't pay us? Pathetic."

His lackey gave a snort.

"Pathetic?" replied the man. His voice was calm. "What's pathetic is the fact that you are preying upon the poor, sucking them dry of the means to take care of his family."

Simmons shrugged. "As you know, this is a dangerous part of town, pal. You need the protection."

The man stared at him. "Leave."

Simmons blinked in disbelief. "What?"

"I said leave."

Simmons laughed. "You can't be serious?"

The man didn't move. "I am. He'll give you what you want, in due time. You insolent jackanapes need to learn that bullying on the weak is not going to bring you fortune."

Simmons glared at him. Who does he think he is? The boss certainly won't let him get away with this.

As Simmons suddenly gave a nasty grin, he snapped his fingers once more. "We'll see about that."

His lackey advanced on the man and raised his bat. The man reached stood fast and gave the lackey a hard stare, his hands being formed into fists.

When the burly gangster came close to the man, he swung his bat.


	3. Episode 3

Episode Three

As quick as lightning, the man with a deathwish dodged the swing and dove to the ground. Cursing, Rodney, the burly henchman of Simmons, swung his bat at the man once more, breaking a clock along the way.

Again, the man dodged it, and managed to counter Rodney's attack by a swift punch in the stomach. While this made Rodney stagger and drop his bat, he quickly regained his balance and managed to shove the man away from him.

The man fell on his back. He could only watch as Rodney advanced towards him and grabbed him by the shirt and proceeded to throw a few punches towards his face. As he was about to strike him once more, he was met with a kick in the groin from the man, which made Rodney fall to the floor in great pain.

The man quickly got up from the ground and retrieved the bat from the floor and pointed it at Rodney.

"I'll only say this one more time… lea-"

His demand was interrupted by the sudden click of a firearm behind his head.

"Go on," it was Simmons. "Finish that sentence. See where that gets you."

The man dropped the baseball bat and slowly put his hands in the air.

"Alright… alright." said the man, his voice now sounding irritated than afraid.

Simmons gestured around the shop. "Look at all the _damage_ you caused, fella. You really ought to give us what you have, to pay off the damages."

When Rodney got up, he saw that the man rolled his eyes and slowly turned around.

"Fine. I can give you something very valuable."

He began to lower his hand towards his coat pocket, which made Simmons tighten the grip on his gun. The man stopped.

"If I may..?" said the man cautiously.

Simmons only nodded, but still kept his raised and ready for any surprises. The man dug into his inside pocket and pulled out…

A pocket watch.

It was a rather beautiful watch, thought Simmons. It looked to be made of gold and silver, with the decal of strange markings on the face.

"Here… I can give you this." said the man, who wrapped the chain around his fingers, resulting in the watch swaying back and forth.

Rodney walked around the man and looked at the watch.

"That's a pretty watch…" said Rodney, who looked to be in awe of the watch.

Simmons couldn't help but agree with his lackey. It was beautiful. Almost… hypnotic. The two gangsters watched as the watch swayed back and forth, looking deep into it, not wanting to look away.

"Yes… keep looking at it." said the man softly. "Watch as it sways before your eyes."

Simmons lowered his gun, mainly because he felt as though he were about to sleep. As he thought this, the watch opened and showed the watch's face, it's numbers in Roman numerals.

"You will leave this place, and forget that you were ever here."

It was the man's voice. It felt as though his voice was in his head.

"You will tell your boss that the debt has been absolved, and never return here."

His voice was so soothing and calm, the two gangsters couldn't help but obey. The man gave a snap of his fingers, and in an instant, they turned on their heels and walked out of the store to report back to their boss. After all, the debt has been paid for.

…

Arthur watched in shock of what went down. He winced as he got up from the floor due to the injuries.

"William… what the hell did you do?" that was all that Arthur could say.

The Wanderer watched the door for a few moments before closing the watch and stuffing it back into his pockets, a smug grin forming on his face.

"Good ol' fashioned hypnosis, Arthur." explained the Wanderer. "Learned it from an old friend of mine. I'm getting better, as it seems."

"Ah…"

The Wanderer examined Arthur. "Are you alright? They really kicked the tar out of you."

Arthur looked down at his torso. It felt bruised, and not to mention he also landed on his head.

"Yeah, they did." Arthur sighed. He couldn't believe the damage done to this place. "This is the worst they've done yet. You think they'll be back?"

The Wanderer shrugged. "Who knows. I doubt the debt will be absolved, but I think that's the last you'll see of those 'winners'."

Arthur couldn't believe it. Despite the fact that his ordeal with the gangsters is far from over, he was surprised with the Wanderer's abilities.

What exactly did he do in life, other than fight in a war?

"You saved my life." said Arthur, giving a slight smile. He wasn't wrong, if the Wanderer haven't of been there, who knows what would have happened to him

The Wanderer gave a small smile. "Of course. Couldn't stand by and let that happen."

He looked at his reflection of the shop window. His lip was bleeding and there was bruising near his eye. He frowned at the sight.

"Ah… I ought to go and get myself cleaned up. It's almost closing time, isn't it?" asked the Wanderer.

Arthur looked at one of the many clocks. "Yeah, seems to be. We'll clean this up tomorrow..."

He went to go get his coat from the back room while the Wanderer went to the restroom to clean his face.

"I'll be with you in a few moments." said the Wanderer.

"That's okay, I'll wait."

After a few minutes, the Wanderer stepped out of the shop while straightening his jacket.

Arthur locked the doors and the two men began to walk back home.

…

Eleanor was in for a surprise when the two men came back home. She saw that her husband was walking stiffly, while the man, William, sported a cut on his lip and a bruise on his face.

She immediately ran towards her husband. "Arthur, oh my god, what happened?!"

She hugged him, but quickly stepped back when he gasped as she held him. Arthur raised a hand, his way of apologizing.

She looked at him for a moment and knew. "It was the gangsters, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, this is the worst they've been yet. They were beating me senseless for a moment, but…"

He looked towards the Wanderer. "William put a stop to that."

The Wanderer made a flamboyant gesture towards his face.

"Guilty as charged," said the Wanderer

She stepped towards him, looked at him and said in a quiet tone. "Thank you."

The Wanderer gave a small grin and nodded.

…

Later that evening, Arthur and the Wanderer sat in the family room, each with a glass of whiskey. They both needed it after today.

The Wanderer, for the most part, didn't say very much since they sat down for dinner. He smiled as Madi told them how her day was at school, and listened to Arthur tell a story he had with a friend while he was out.

He stared into the small fireplace, taking in it's warmth.

Eventually, Arthur spoke up.

"Where is home for you, anyhow?"

The Wanderer looked at him. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Well, I mean, you say that you aren't human. That means that you aren't from.. Earth, right?"

The Wanderer nodded, but didn't say anything.

"So… what planet are you from?"

He still hasn't said anything. He just kept looking into the fireplace. But Arthur saw his expression changed slightly from a poker face, to one that showed… sadness?

After what felt like an eternity, the Wanderer took a sip of his drink, and looked to Arthur.

"Wherever my home lies, It is gone. Long gone." he gave a sigh. "My home planet was known as Gallifrey."

Arthur frowned. "Gone how..?"

The Wanderer looked towards the fireplace once more.

"There… was a war. My people were at war with these…" he shook his head. "Anyhow, it lasted for many, many years. I was on the front lines of that war, and I lost many friends, yet I lost as many enemies as well."

Arthur looked at him. He knew very well what he meant.

"I… I know what that is like. Not sure if you know, but I was sent to a country called Vietnam. Khe Sanh."

The Wanderer looked to him. "That was a bloody battle."

"How do you know about it?"

The Wanderer shrugged this time. "Let's just say that I have an interest in this planet."

Arthur looked to him. "I lost so many friends. Sometimes, I have nightmares about their deaths. Of all people to survive, I am still surprised I made it out."

"You are telling me," murmured the Wanderer, taking a sip of his drink.

The Wanderer would raise a glass to him. "To absent friends?"

Arthur considered him. For someone who looked young, he could see the age and experience in his eyes. Just how old is he, he thought. Giving a sigh, he would raise a glass as well.

"To absent friends." he said with a small grin.

They clinked glasses.

…

The next two months, things were business as usual. Arthur would be working the counters, with the Wanderer cleaning the clocks, floors, and shelves. At one point, he even let the Wanderer work the counters.

Even though they agreed to let him stay a week at the Henderson household, Eleanor wanted him to remain with them just in case the gangsters come back. Then it turned into two weeks.

Then three.

Then four.

But none have arrived. Not at all.

The Wanderer didn't stay at the house as often as you think, with him going out, trying to find a way to bring his spaceship back. But when he did, they would let him sleep in the guest bedroom.

But everyday, the Wanderer would work at the clockwork shop.

Wanderer saw Arthur say goodbye to the last customer leaving the store.

"Twelve customers today, Arthur. New record?" said the Wanderer giving a smirk.

"Oh shut up." said Arthur with a laugh, and so did the Wanderer.

It was closing time, so once again, the two men left the shop and locked up.

"You coming back for dinner, William?" asked Arthur.

The Wanderer waved a hand. "Ah, I can't just yet."

"Still looking for that spaceship of yours?"

He nodded. Arthur understood.

Arthur pointed a finger at him. "Tomorrow, you will have dinner with us, alright?"

The Wanderer put up his hands. "Alright, alright, no need to use the finger."

They laughed once more.

"See you tomorrow, Arthur."

They shook hands.

"You too, William."

The Wanderer would turn on his heel down the street, with the sun going down. Giving a sigh, Arthur made his way home.

They were having steak tonight.

…

The next morning, the Wanderer would go to the door to the shop, and was surprised to see it was still locked. Only Arthur has a key to the shop.

He'd peer into the shop and found it empty, with the lights off and the closed sign still shown. Scratching his head, the Wanderer decided to go check on Arthur.

"Maybe he's come down with something." murmured the Wanderer to himself.

…

The Wanderer arrived at the Henderson household and knocked on the door.

Nobody answered.

He gave it a knock again. Again, nothing.

Worry now taking over, the Doctor pulled a metallic device out of his pocket. The only thing that was still intact when he changed faces.

Before he could use it, the door opened to reveal Eleanor.

The Wanderer was about to make his greeting before he saw that Eleanor looked as though she was crying.

"Eleanor, what's wrong?"

"Where were you?" said Eleanor quickly.

"I- I was out on business," said the Wanderer quietly.

Looking to him for a moment she'd nudge her head. "Come on in."

As the Wanderer entered the house, he noticed broken glass on the floor, and a chair turned over.

"What happened here..?" asked the Wanderer.

Eleanor didn't say anything at first. The Wanderer would reach for her shoulder.

"Eleanor, what happened? Where's Arthur?" he said in a firm voice.

Tears started to form on her face again. "They took Arthur. Those bastards took my husband!"


	4. Episode 4

Episode Four

The Wanderer's face darkened. He knew those gangsters would come back one day.

"When did this happen?" asked the Wanderer.

They both went towards the couch, and sat down.

"They waited till Madi went to school. All I remember is that I was making Arthur and I some coffee when there was a pounding on the door. When I opened it, they…"

She gestured to a spot on her face that was red raw.

"They knocked me to the floor, and they began to beat Arthur again. He tried to defend himself, but that only made them more angry."

The Wanderer listened to her story, taking in every detail.

"After they were done with him, they carried him away. I don't know what they are going to with him, and these guys are not forgiving."

Tears streamed down her face. Frowning, the Wanderer pulled a hankey out of his velvet jacket, and gave it to her.

"And you have no idea where they are taking him?"

She shook her head. "The police won't even touch on the matter."

The Wanderer narrowed his face and stood up from the couch.

He looked down at her, and she looked up at him.

"But I will." said the Wanderer simply.

Eleanor looked to him.

"You're serious..?"

He nodded. "You're damn right I'm serious. I'm going to find your husband, and put an end to this once and for all. You can take my word for it."

She was surprised at the determination in his voice. But somehow she believed him.

"How will you find him?"

The Wanderer pressed a finger through his nose. "I have my ways, Mrs. Henderson. First, I must go to the guest room to get a couple things."

She nodded, and would see him go upstairs.

…

The Wanderer went to the guest room and would pull out a box from underneath the bed. Inside, was a Colt Detective Special revolver. You never know if he would run into more trouble than he would like to. As he loaded the bullets into the gun, he thought about what he was going to do.

It's a big city, and it may be a little complicated and problematic to find Arthur. But he and his family were kind enough to take him in when he was at his lowest, and it's about time he would repay their kindness.

He'd stuff the revolver in a hidden compartment in his jacket, and made sure he still had his sonic screwdriver.

Check and check.

The Wanderer was about to leave before he was stopped by Eleanor.

"William… please bring him back."

The Wanderer smiled at her. "Count on it."

He'd put on his black felt hat, and would leave the house.

He had work to do.

…

The Wanderer's past was one of espionage, and among other things. He had no idea if he possessed the skills in his new incarnation to do this, but it's worth a try. He remembered his training, and the three things he was taught.

_First things first. Ask around._

He went down to the seedy part of Portland, Oregon. He would ask around the various vendors, or people hanging around the streets. They didn't know where the gangster's base of operations would be, but they told him that some of them would normally hang out in a dive bar.

Good of a start as any, the Wanderer thought.

…

_Second things second. Get vital information. Interrogate._

The Wanderer sat at the bar, a drink in his hand. He sat there for a while until he saw a familiar face walk into the bar.

He recognized him straight away. Simmons. He'd greet his fellow gangsters at a table and would sit down with them. The Wanderer turned his back towards the bar and ordered another drink. He needs to wait for Simmons to be alone.

After a few drinks, Simmons would get up from the table and would make his way to the bathroom. This was his chance. The Wanderer got up and followed him to the bathroom.

Before Simmons got to business, he turned around to see who entered the bathroom with him. To his shock, it was the man who he encountered in Henderson's shop. The Wanderer locked the door, and before Simmons could pull out his gun, the Wanderer immediately charged with his shoulder at Simmons, knocking the gun out of his hand, and making him stumble against the wall.

Simmons tried to throw a punch, but the Wanderer would grab his arm and would twist it behind his back, pinning him against the wall.

"One chance," said the Wanderer with malice in his voice. "where can I find him?"

"I don't know wha-" Simmons began, but was interrupted when he felt his arm being bent behind him. He gave a pained yell.

"Where!" shouted the Wanderer.

"Alright, alright, he's.. he's at a warehouse a few blocks down. They are holding him as blackmail for his family."

"Is that right..?" replied the Wanderer quietly. He'd let him go.

Simmons gave a sigh of relief and looked to the man. "N- now can I go?"

The Wanderer looked to him for a moment. He felt the weight of the gun in his jacket.

He'd shake his head. No, no deaths. Instead, he'd go up to Simmons, and would press his fingers against his temples.

"You just had a little too much to drink, friend." he said simply. Simmons fell to the floor unconscious.

The Wanderer silently left the bar, determined to rescue his friend now more than ever.

…

_Last things last. Plan your approach. You have one chance, don't waste it._

The two men that guarded the front entrance to the warehouse quickly got up when they saw a young man in a velvet jacket walk towards the gate.

"Hey, what's your business here?" said a guard.

The man didn't stop walking.

The other guard pulled out his pistol. "Hey, stop!"

So he did. The man tipped his hat upwards and looked at the men.

He gave them a smile. "Gentlemen, I was invited here by your boss for an appointment!

The two men looked to one another. "Appointment?"

The man nodded. "Mhm. I got the invitation…"

He'd start to dig into his pockets, before he saw both men pull out their guns. The Wanderer looked to them for a moment.

"It's alright… see?" he'd pull out the psychic paper, and tossed it to them.

One of the men caught it, and opened it up. He he read it over and over before giving a small nod.

"Looks legit." he'd put away his gun. Same with his friend.

"Take me to your leader." said the man, his smile still bright.

Rolling his eyes and giving a sigh, he'd open the gate to the warehouse.

"Come on, I'll take you to him. This better be good, for your sake."

…

Arthur groaned as he was punched in the stomach once more. They've been at it for hours now. From what he could gather from the gangsters, they were angry with him, especially the Wanderer, for their resistance at the clockwork shop a few months ago. They also mentioned that they are looking for the Wanderer as well, but weren't able to find him. Yet.

He was tied up in a chair in an office on the second floor of a building. From what he saw from outside the window, he looked to be in some sort of warehouse. Right in the gangster's territory. After the man who's been giving him plenty of 'love' stepped back from him, a man entered the office.

He was a middle aged man, with his greying hair in a pompadour hairstyle. He wore a brown leather jacket with a polo shirt underneath. He didn't say anything to Arthur at first. He just looked at him before going to his desk and poured himself a glass of bourbon. After he did, he'd walk in front of Arthur and looked at him in the eye.

"So what'll it be, Arthur? You can walk free and see your family in exchange for telling us where he is."

Arthur looked at Robert Falcone. That was the reason they took him. Normally they would find a poor sucker in a quiet place somewhere and would beat the tar out of him as a lesson for those who don't follow the 'rules'. But they wanted the man who really put up a fight.

"I keep telling you, I have no idea where he is. Even then, I don't even know the guy." answered Arthur. He wanted to not give as much information as he could. Wonder where that would get him…

Falcone looked at him a bit more before back handing his face.

"You'll tell us eventually. Portland may be a big city, but my sources can find him." He then grinned. "But who knows, maybe he will find *us*."

"No, he won't do that. If he were smart, he would leave Portland and never come-."

"Hello!" said a voice at the door to the office. It was, unmistakably, the Wanderer.

The three men in the office turned their heads and saw him standing with the gate guard at the door to the office.

The man rubbed the back of his neck. "Says here this guy has an appointment with you."

Falcone blinked for a moment before taking a sip of his drink and putting it down.

"Well…" he looked to Arthur. "What did I tell you?"

Arthur looked to the Wanderer with a face that said: *What have you done..?*

The Wanderer boldly stepped into the office, and looked around. "Dreary setting. But then again, suits someone of your reputation, mister..?"

"You can call me Falcone."

The Wanderer's eyebrows raised. "Falcone? Well, once again, it suits you."

He saw a chair and sat down. The bodyguard in the office was eyeing his every move, and almost went to the Wanderer for sitting down without permission. But Falcone stopped him.

He picked up his drink again and looked to the new arrival. "My men were looking all over for you. You are a hard man to find, William."

The Wanderer nodded. "So I heard. I can stay out of sight if I wish."

Falcone studied him. He was a cheery man, he thought. But it hides something more within. The fact that came to *him* means that he wants something.

"It's a ballsy move to just walk in here like you own the place. Because you don't, I do." he walked to the front of his desk and sat on top of it. "Now, what do you want?"

The Wanderer looked to him for a moment, took off his hat, and crossed his legs. "Well, it's quite simple, really."

"And what's that?"

"I came here to bargain."

Falcone scoffed. "You, bargain? Seems to me that you have nothing to bargain for, other than poor Henderson here."

The Wanderer eyed Arthur for a moment. Arthur was in silence as this went down. He had no idea what he planned on doing, but he will have to just trust him.

"Yeah, I don't really have much to show for, don't I?" said the Wanderer quietly. He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. "Clearly you have Arthur for bait. You wanted me here personally, one way or another, correct?"

"That's right. When Simmons and Rodney came back with no memory of what they were doing, and with a few bruises on Rodney, I assumed they encountered some resistance." he began to pour another glass. "Since then, we were watching you two. Well, you, especially."

The Wanderer looked to him. He had a feeling on what he was going for, and he did not like it. "Sounds to me that you are going to give me an offer, not teach me a lesson…"

"Psychic, aren't you? I could use someone like you." He handed the Wanderer the second glass. "People would underestimate you, because you look young. And the fact that you tracked me down all by yourself also proves to me that you are resourceful. Join us, and there is bound to be rewards."

The Wanderer took a sip of his drink. Kentucky bourbon, he deduced. From the looks of the bottle, expensive too. He actually thought about this. These people could prove to be a valuable ally in the meantime before he gets his TARDIS back.

Then, he looked at Arthur. He was bruised, beaten, all because of him. All because of his intervention. He took him in when everybody else would turn him in to the authorities, and gave him a home.

His past lives would take this offer in a heartbeat.

But not this time.

He stood up, took another sip, and sighed. "No. I'm afraid that I will decline your offer, Mr. Falcone. That life… is just not me anymore. I just want to take Arthur, and leave."

Falcone's face shifted. His face became slightly red, and would put down his drink. He stared at the Wanderer. Nobody says no to him. *Nobody.*

He looked to his bodyguard, gave a nod, and would restrain the Wanderer from behind, grabbing his arms.

His eyes widened at the sudden move. He squirmed a bit, but it was no use. This man was too strong to break free.

Falcone looked to him. "I don't think you have much of a choice, pal. Either you accept my offer, or…"

He'd grab his gun off of the desk, and would aim at Arthur. "Arthur will have a closed casket funeral."

Sweat beaded off of Arthur's face. He looked between Falcone and the Wanderer.

"Wait!" shouted the Wanderer. "What if I gave you something more valuable than your entire gang combined?!"

Falcone paused. "What?"

The Wanderer nodded. "Oh yes, *very* valuable! If your friend can just let me go for a moment, I will gladly show you."

Falcone was taken aback by this? Bribery? Now? He might as well humor him. He nodded at the bodyguard, and just like that, he was let go.

The Wanderer gave a sigh, and dug into his pockets. He pulled out the pocket watch. The same pocket watch from before, realized Arthur.

He'd raise it up, and showed Falcone. "Take a good look, gentlemen. This piece is made of gold, and silver. Twenty-four karat, to be precise."

Falcone had to admit, it was a beautiful watch. The Wanderer opened it.

"See?" he'd move the hands on the watch. "It's in working condition, and it will surely look good with that suit, Mr. Falcone."

He looked at it. "I…"

Something made him want it. More than anything, and would give anything in exchange. The Wanderer closed the watch.

"Now… how about a trade?" he'd gesture to Arthur, who looked on in surprise. He couldn't believe that this was working.

Falcone nodded. "Right, you can keep your friend. This will definitely pay things off with him."

The bodyguard raised an eyebrow. Then again, he wasn't paid to ask questions.

"Untie him." said Falcone. The Wanderer handed him the watch while Arthur was untied.

"Get out of here." said Falcone. "Don't let me see you around here again."

"Likewise." the Wanderer went to Arthur and held him for support. "Have a pleasant day, gentlemen."

The two men left the room, and Falcone sat on the desk, still admiring the watch. He opened it, and as he did, the watch's hands struck twelve.

…

Arthur could hardly believe this. The Wanderer looked ahead of them, not once looking back at the warehouse. He was in silence until a small explosion, along with a flash was seen behind them. Nothing was destroyed, but it appeared as if a large camera was used inside, and the flash was just too bright.

Arthur looked to him. The Wanderer cracked a smile.

…

A few men ran into the office. The looked to Robert Falcone, who was now on the floor. There were pieces of metal on the floor, and his bodyguard was still unconsious. He slowly got up, and looked to the men.

"Boss, are you alright?!"

He peered at them, and rubbed his head. "Who are you..?"

…

"Classic memory wipe, Arthur! That watch had special abilities. I will miss using that." explained the Wanderer. "But… I have at least a few more in my ship somewhere."

"What will this mean?" asked Arthur.

"It means, that since your debt is paid off, and, combined with Falcone losing his memory, I think you and your family will be just fine." the Wanderer answered simply. He had a smug grin on his face.

Arthur could hardly believe this, but he will just have to believe him. He's gotten this lucky so far since he came into his life.

…

Madi quickly ran to her father's arms when the two men stepped through the door. Eleanor was certainly shocked to see her husband alive and well, if a little bruised.

Eleanor laughed and hugged her husband as well. The Wanderer looked on, a big smile on his face. Madi looked up to him

"Thank you for saving my Dad, William…"

The Wanderer raised a hand, and shook his head. "Don't mention it. Your family will be just fine, Madilyn."

Eleanor looked to Arthur. "What does he mean?"

"He mean… he means that we are safe. We don't have to worry about them anymore."

She then turned her head to the Wanderer. "Thank you. Thank you so much, William…"

…

Later that night, Arthur was woken up when he heard some noises come from the guest room. The Wanderer's tinkering, no doubt. Then, the noises stopped. He then heard the door to the room open, and footsteps going downstairs. Curiosity gnawing at him, he decided to discreetly follow him downstairs.

He heard the door to the back door close. He looked out the window and saw the Wanderer standing in the middle of the backward. He was holding a small device in his hand.

He raised the device in the air, and gave a loud whistle, breaking the silence of the night.

All was quiet for a moment. The Wanderer would put his head down for a moment, and Arthur could almost hear him cursing to himself before there was a breeze in the air. It sounded like a bunch of trumpets, or perhaps some elephants attempting to form a band.

Suddenly, a box began to fade into view in front of the Wanderer. The Wanderer raised his hands in the air in triumph.

He was pulling something out of his jacket pocket before he heard a voice behind him.

"It's time, isn't it?"

He looked back to see Arthur. He stuffed the Stattenheim remote control back into his pocket. This is what he was working on during his nights out and about. He turned to face him.

"Yes. I'm afraid so." said the Wanderer, with a sad smile on his face. Arthur stepped towards him.

"Wherever that ship takes you… just know that you will always have a home here." Arthur returned the sad smile.

The Wanderer would offer his hand. Arthur took it.

"Thank you." said the Wanderer softly. He'd let go, and would lay the key on the surface of the door. The door opened. Arthur blinked a few times to see that there was a large room on the inside.

"R- roomy." said Arthur with a small laugh.

The Wanderer turned back, and gave him one last smile. "Goodbye, Arthur Henderson. Till we meet again."

He'd give him a wave, and would step into the box, closing the doors. Soon, the noises came back, and to Arthur's shock, the box faded out of view. Arthur now stood in an empty backyard. He choked up slightly. He had come to like William. The Wanderer.

He turned to walk back into the house, and looked up to the window and saw his daughter staring out of the window in astonishment. They looked at each other for a moment before Arthur would put a finger to his lips, gave a smile, and walked back into the house.

He'll try his best to explain things to her in the morning.

* * *

**That concludes the first story of The Wanderer Chronicles! Join the Wanderer when he unravels a royal ****mystery in the next story: The Conspirators!**


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